Chapter 38 Chapter 38
Valentina
I was still seated on the bed, hands tangled in my hair, trying to steady the pounding in my head. Every time I closed my eyes, the image of Ambrose his eyes sharp, his hand gripping mine like it was a command flashed behind my eyelids.
A knock sounded on the door. My first instinct was to ignore it, pretend I hadn't heard, pretend the world outside didn't exist. But then it came again.
I exhaled and slowly stood, my legs unsteady. With a reluctant sigh, I walked to the door and opened it.
Lucien stood there, his expression calm, but there was something in his eyes.
"What do you want?" I asked, my voice brittle, raw from frustration.
"Can we talk?" he said simply.
I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "Talk? Oh, now you have the mouth to talk, since your father has already openly shown the kind of business he conducts."
"Let's talk inside Valentina," He did firmly. I didn't have strength to go back and forth so I left the door open and walked back to my bed. He followed in shutting the door behind him.
"So what do you want to say?" I said looking everywhere else but him.
Lucien didn't answer immediately. "What do you want to say?" I repeated, sharper this time.
He exhaled slowly. "You shouldn't have challenged him like that."
A humorless laugh slipped from my lips. "That's what you came here to say? To scold me too?"
"That's not what I'm doing."
"Really?" I snapped, finally looking at him. "Because it sounds exactly like that."
He stepped closer but didn't sit yet. His posture was controlled. "You embarrassed him in front of everyone. You put yourself in his line of fire."
"And?" I shot back. "Should I have smiled and nodded while they discussed moving girls around like cargo?"
"Lower your voice."
"No," I said immediately. "No. I'm tired of lowering my voice."
I stood up now, pacing a few steps before turning back to him. "How can you sit there and listen to that? How can you stand beside him while he does something like that?"
"You think I don't know what he is?" Lucien's voice dropped. "You think I haven't seen it my entire life?"
"Then why are you still there?" I demanded. "Why are you part of it?"
"I am not part of that," he said firmly.
"You were in that room."
"And so were you."
"That's different," I whispered.
"Is it?" he challenged. "You married into this world."
"I didn't choose this!" My voice cracked. "My father handed me over like I was part of a contract. I didn't know what he was truly involved in. I didn't know it was this."
Lucien finally sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward. "You think I chose it?"
I faltered.
"I was born into it, Valentina. I grew up watching him build this empire. You don't dismantle something like that overnight. Not without consequences."
"And what?" I said bitterly. "So we just let innocent people pay the price while we wait for the right timing?"
His eyes flashed. "You have no idea how many deals I've rerouted. How many situations I've quietly shut down before they escalated."
I stared at him. "Then shut this one down."
"It's not that simple."
"It should be."
He stood abruptly, frustration finally cracking through his composure. "You walking into that meeting and demanding answers doesn't save anyone. It makes you a target."
"Good," I whispered fiercely. "At least I'd be doing something."
His gaze softened for a fraction of a second, then hardened again. "You don't understand how dangerous that sounds."
"Then explain it to me!" I demanded. "Stop treating me like I'm fragile. Stop acting like I can't handle the truth."
He stepped closer now, close enough that I could feel the tension radiating off him. "The truth," he said quietly, "is that if you keep pushing him publicly, he won't just shout next time."
A chill slid down my spine. I remembered Ambrose's grip on my wrist. The look in his eyes. The command in his voice. Lucien saw the fear flicker across my face.
"That's why I'm here," he continued more gently. "Not to silence you. But to keep you alive."
I swallowed hard. "So what? I just pretend? Smile at dinners? Stand beside him while he ruins lives?"
"No," he said. "You stay smart. You stay observant. And you let me handle what can be handled without burning everything down."
"And how long does that take?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He didn't answer.
"That's what I thought," I said, looking away.
Silence fell again, heavier this time.
Finally, he spoke. "I need you to trust me."
I let out a shaky breath. "Trust you? When you sit in those meetings and say nothing?"
"I’m not proud of it Valentina"
I studied his face the tight jaw, the exhaustion he tried to hide, the anger that wasn't just directed at me.
"I don't know what to believe anymore," I admitted quietly.
"Believe this," he said. "I won't let him destroy you."
My heart stuttered.
"And the girls?" I asked.
His expression darkened. "I'm working on it."
I searched his eyes, trying to see if that was truth or another careful half-answer.
“I thought you are still angry,” I said quietly.
He formed his lips into a thin line, something conflicted flashing across his face. Slowly, he stepped closer. Close enough that I could feel his presence without him touching me yet.
Then he reached out and gently took my hand.
“Yes,” he admitted softly. “I know I acted… somehow. I was harsh. I let it show.”
I didn’t respond.
“I’m sorry,” he continued. “You were only being careful. You were thinking. But I guess I allowed anger to get over me.”
I glared at him, my fingers still in his grasp. “You even ignored me.”
His grip softened.
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. It was really hard for me too.”
There was no defensiveness in his voice now. Just honesty.
I pulled my hand away from his and wrapped my arms around my chest, creating distance between us.
“But I’m still angry at you,” I said pouting.
“I figured,” he replied quietly.
“You don’t get to act cold in that room, look at me like I did something wrong, and then come here acting calm.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“That’s not how it felt.”
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “I was trying to stop things from spiraling. If I reacted emotionally in that room, it would have given him more reason to push back. I had to stay neutral.”
“You didn’t look neutral,” I muttered.
He almost smiled at that, but it faded quickly. “I looked controlled. There’s a difference.”
I held his gaze. “It hurt.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said immediately.
“But you did.”
He stepped closer again. “I thought if I reacted the wrong way, he’d see it. And if he saw it, he’d know exactly where to strike.”
My arms loosened just a little, though I didn’t drop them completely.
“I don’t need you to be perfect,” I said quietly. “But I need you to stand with me. Not look like you’re standing against me.”
“I am with you,” he said firmly. “Even when it doesn’t look like it.”
I studied him, still guarded.
“But I’m still angry,” I repeated.
This time, a faint softness touched his expression. “You’re allowed to be.”
“I won’t tell you to calm down,” he added. “You should be angry. What happened in that room wasn’t right.”
The admission settled something inside me.
“I just…” I exhaled slowly. “I don’t want to feel alone in this.”
“You’re not,” he said and then hugged me.